All of a sudden, the ice shifts, causing me to lose the solid grip I have with my left hand. I grab on to the pickax with both hands as my harness releases, setting Josh free.
He feels it at the same time I do.
He stops for a moment, his eyes locking on to mine. “Hang on!” he yells, releasing some slack on his rope as he plunges toward me.
But he isn’t quick enough.
The ice begins to separate into long shards and tiny fragments. Suddenly my pickax has nothing left to penetrate.
I tumble backward, falling so fast the mountain is just a blur. I close my eyes as the wind rushes in my ears.
So this is how it feels to die? It doesn’t seem too bad, actually.
I don’t feel frightened at all.
But then I remember why I’m here—to find the firewall again—so dying today, whether it’s real or not, isn’t an option.
I tighten my hands around the pickax. Utilizing all my strength, I flip myself upright as my body continues to descend. I face the mountain, heaving my ax toward it as hard as I can. The ax catches the side of a large rock formation, yanking me upward. I bounce like an old string puppet, flying sideways through the air, ricocheting off the mountain and onto a huge plateau.
I hit the ground hard, rolling several times before stopping. Then I open my eyes.
In spite of the fall, I’m surprisingly unscathed. No bumps, no bruises, no scratches.
I pick up my head and look around. In front of me is an archway made out of giant blocks of ice, sparkling like a billon sea-green diamonds.
With a thump, Josh lands on the frozen surface beside me, his cheeks flushed.
“Are you okay?” he says, out of breath.
Actually, I’m better than okay.
I’m more alive than I’ve ever felt before.
He falls backward against the snow, as he shuts his eyes with relief. “Hey, what’s your ExSet at?”
I push back the sleeve of my parka and look at my wristband. “Oh, it’s . . . advanced.”
Josh starts laughing. “Okay, change that right now.”
“Why? Are you having trouble keeping up with me?” I joke as I type in the proper adjustments.
He kicks some ice off the blade attached to his boot and grins. “By the way, that was the coolest thing I have seen in my life. Ever.”
“Great, maybe we can do it again sometime.”
Josh’s laughing tapers off and he just lies there, staring at me. We’re so close I could reach out and hold his hand. Or I could roll over a little, lean in, and tilt my head so that our brows are gently pressing together, leaving him to make the last, sweet move.
Do I dare?
“How far do you think we’ve gone?” he says, sitting up and brushing snow off his pants with his hands.
I crane my neck and lift my shoulders, propping my top half up with my elbows. “I don’t know,” I say, studying the structure looming in front of us. “It might be five miles. Maybe we should check out this ice cave. The firewall in the Thai Beach was near a cluster of rocks—kind of like a formation. Maybe this archway is another version of that.”
I look over at Josh and see the rapture that’s sparkling in his eyes. I can’t help but hope that Elusion won’t be the only place I’ll ever see him this way.
The path through the ice cave looks exactly like a tunnel running through a block of iridescent mint-infused limestone. The walls are perfectly carved and rounded, the ground still covered in cherry-blossom snow. Bright rays of blue sunlight streams in through the semitransparent ceiling, and when I run my hand along the smooth tunnel walls, surface particles begin to change hues—from soft yellow to bright pink to ethereal green. It feels like I’m walking through a gigantic crystal prism.
At the end of the winding path, Josh and I stumble upon a huge cavern filled with translucent flamingo-pink stalagmites rising from the ground and glimmering harvest-gold icicles, which dangle from above like frozen caramel rain. But at the center of the cavern, about a few hundred yards away from us, is a monstrous pure-white glacier formation that stretches out like a barricade around a mythical princess’s castle. I crane my neck upward to see how high it goes, but it just continues on and on, above the ceiling and into infinity.
“It’s . . . incredible,” I say. The word is such an insignificant way to describe the absolute splendor that’s before us, but that’s all I can muster.
Josh takes off his gloves and reaches out to touch the smooth surface of a nearby pillar-shaped stalagmite with his bare hands. “You know what? I think that frozen barrier is the firewall.”
“Really? It didn’t look like part of the landscape in the Thai Beach Escape,” I say.
“I know, but maybe the programmers are trying to make it harder to find.”
“Because of what happened to me?”
“Yeah, and whatever’s happening to Nora,” Josh suggests.
“You’re probably right,” I say, unzipping my parka. The refracted blue sunlight from outside the cave is definitely causing some kind of greenhouse effect inside the cavern. There’s a surge of heat that’s starting to surround us, causing some of the golden icicles to drip beads of moisture on the ground.
But other than that, there isn’t any strange current tearing through this Escape; no clues indicate this icy fortress is about to self-destruct.
No visions of my father, either. Lucky for me, I can’t feel one shred of disappointment here. But when we leave, that will be another story altogether.
“Can you sense your dad’s presence?” Josh asks, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
An image pops into my head—my father planting a triangular blue flag at the top of the mountain and renaming it Mount Regan. The memory of him hugging and swinging me around afterward makes me smile.
“I sort of remember being here with him last time, if that’s what you mean.”
“Not exactly.” Josh removes his hands from the ice formation and dries them on the back of his pants. “Do you believe in . . . psychic connections at all?”
I press my hands against the ice like Josh did, my skin slipping and sliding along the pillar’s rounded edges and rough ridges. “Like do I think it’s possible to for you to read my mind or something?”
Because honestly, right now, I think he can.
“No, I mean . . . do you think that it’s possible to feel like someone’s next to you, even though they are hundreds of miles away? Or that two people could understand each other without having to talk?”
I put my hands in my coat pockets and take a step closer to him. I know we’re here to examine the firewall—to see if we can find another connection to Dad or Nora—but the only thing I can think about is how I wish Josh’s arms were wrapped around me.
“Yes, I think it’s possible,” I reply.
Josh grins and moves toward me, his boots creating a loud crunching sound as he walks over the snow. His footprints blaze behind him like a row of lit candles.
“Good. I thought . . . you might think that was stupid.”
I take a deep breath and then exhale, sending a foggy burst of mist into the air. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he says, his lips parting to reveal another sweet smile.
“How many girls have you brought to Elusion?”
Josh’s eyebrows twitch up and he gives me a funny look, but he doesn’t seem offended, of course. “Why do you want to know?”
“No reason. I’m just curious.”
This isn’t exactly the truth, which makes me wonder—can you lie in Elusion? I doubt anyone would have a reason to. Trypnosis typically lowers your inhibitions, so what would be the motivation, really?
“Curious about what?”
I shrug. “Whether or not you’ve hooked up with anyone here.”
Josh takes another step toward me, the icy barrier deep in the cavern looking smaller and less significant the more he closes in on me.
“That’s a pretty personal q
uestion,” he says.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay.” Josh reaches out and gently pulls my hand out of my pocket, the softness of his palm sending a tingling riptide up my arm and straight to my heart. “One or two, I guess. I’m having trouble remembering.”
My fingers entwine with his, and another crackling wave of energy travels through me at the speed of light. Josh pulls me toward him, his eyes locked with mine.
“What was it like? Kissing someone here?” I whisper.
“You mean, you’ve never . . .”
“No. I’ve only been here with my father and Patrick,” I say.
Josh pushes a loose, damp strand of hair away from my face with his thumb. “So you and Patrick . . . you’re really just friends? Nothing has ever happened between you two?”
“Nothing has, and nothing will,” I murmur. His hands travel down my back and rest on my hips, causing an electric hum to course through my body. “Too bad for him,” Josh says, his voice rather musky all of a sudden.
“Why do you say that?”
“I can tell from the way he looks at you.” Josh leans in, and his lips brush against my forehead, sending my center of gravity to my neck and making my legs weak. “He wants to be more than your friend.”
“So how does he look at me?” I ask.
Josh’s grip on my hips becomes tighter, hungrier, and in seconds almost every part of me is pressed up against him. Our world is beginning to fall away behind the veil of Elusion’s white light. The stalagmites, the icicles, the snow, the frozen firewall that we came here to find are fading away, and soon we will too.
“Like this,” he says, pressing his lips to mine. I clasp my hands tightly behind his back, unable to breathe, unable to think. It’s as though I’m being shaken to my very core. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.
But even with my eyes closed, I can tell the brightness is about to swallow us whole and take us back into the real world.
I pull him tighter, willing the light away. I’m not ready to leave.
He’s kissing me harder now, his strong arms wrapped so tightly around my waist he’s practically lifting me off the ground. All I can think about is how wonderful this feels and how I want to stay here, like this, with Josh. How I don’t want to go home.
But just like that, we’re gone.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
ELEVEN
I WANT TO KISS JOSH AGAIN.
We’ve been back from Elusion for a half hour, but my heart is still rattling against my rib cage. Slipping my hands under the motion-sensor faucet, I splash some lukewarm water on my face, hoping that will snap me out of this dreamy, almost lovesick state.
It doesn’t help.
My brain still feels like it’s wrapped in cellophane as I blindly reach for the air-dryer button on the right-hand wall. After I press it, two converging streams of hot air blow out of a nozzle and onto my hands. I lean forward and put my face right in front of the current. Once all the moisture has been sucked away from my skin, the dryer turns off automatically, and I twist back to the sink so I can check myself out in the oval mirror that hangs above the olive-colored porcelain countertop.
My makeup is a bit smeared, so I pull some toilet paper off of the roll and blot underneath my eyes, where the damage is the worst. I adjust my scoop-neck tee so it’s centered on my chest, and pull up my jeans so they’re not riding so low on my hips. Now I look like I do every night, like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
Like I haven’t been climbing mountains and suffering through near-death experiences.
Like I wasn’t just kissed.
But was I, really? As I back up against the shower door, I wonder—and worry—if Elusion is powerful enough to create feelings that don’t actually exist in reality. After all, I know I don’t want to be anything more than friends with Patrick, but when I was trekking around the Universe Escape with him, I have to admit, I felt . . . something.
Touching my fingers to my lips, I glance at the bathroom door, where Josh is waiting on the other side. My equilibrium feels off as my mind struggles to process what my senses keep insisting was real. And even though I have way more important things to be concerned with than a kiss, that moment is replaying itself over and over again in my thoughts.
My bare feet pad against the radiant-heat tiled floor as I walk toward the door, stopping before the sensors catch my movement. Since we woke up, Josh and I haven’t spoken much except to comment on the status of our mobility post-Aftershock.
What do I say to him now? Do I even acknowledge what happened?
I take another step forward and push the door open.
Josh is sitting on the edge of my bed, his head dipped down as he stares at a wrinkled piece of paper. My room suddenly feels so small. All of my attention is focused on the broadness of his shoulders; the way his waffle knit shirt hugs his muscular arms; his square jaw; and the slight beard stubble on his cheeks. But when he turns to look at me, the only thing I can see are his deep-set golden-brown eyes, which are unmistakably red in the corners.
“Hey,” he murmurs, quickly sticking the paper in his pocket and mindlessly running his hand over his short, spiked hair. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “How are you?”
Instead of answering my question, he stands up and turns away from me. That says more than words ever could.
He regrets the kiss. He wishes he could take it back.
I take a step away from him as I brace myself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth—a mouth that I still remember tasting like spiced apples.
“Regan,” he begins, in a slightly wavering tone that only confirms my suspicions. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
I know this is a dumb, passive-aggressive response, but a part of me wants him to admit what I fear to be true. I can’t take the thought of another person not being honest with me.
There’s a long silence that pretty much drives a shard of glass into my nerves. When Josh finally turns back around, he lets out a frustrated sigh.
“It’s my fault that we’re back to square one,” he says.
“Huh?”
“The firewall.” Josh grits his teeth and punches an angry fist into the air. “It was right there, in that cavern. But because of me . . . we missed our chance.”
I take in a breath, somewhat relieved that he’s saying our kiss was a mistake for a reason that doesn’t involve his feelings for me, but I realize that he’s right. Our mission to scope out the firewall was temporarily derailed, and we won’t be able to reenter Elusion for another half hour.
Who knows what else will go wrong by then?
All of a sudden, I hear a male voice from downstairs call out, “Regan?”
Oh God. I think I just tempted fate.
“Regan? You upstairs?”
Josh’s head whips toward the bedroom door. “Is that—”
“Patrick,” I whisper.
When he turns his gaze back to me, Josh’s eyes look like they’re engulfed in flames. “How’d he get in the house?”
“He has a courtesy code on his passcard,” I reply, blood pumping through my veins like an express-line Traxx.
Josh rolls his eyes. “Great.”
“What if he knows about the QuTap?”
“I think he’d sound a lot more pissed, don’t you?”
I push past Josh, upset that he’s not helping matters with his snarky attitude. “Just stay here. I’ll get rid of him.”
I rush toward the bedroom door, almost colliding with the painted glass when it doesn’t slide open fast enough. I’m not really thinking now, just moving instinctively. I hurry down the hall, and when I reach the top of the steps, I call to Patrick before I even see him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, skipping do
wn the stairs two at a time.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, a foot already on the bottom step, a hand on the restored wooden banister as if he was about to come up after me.
Patrick looks every inch the corporate titan, with his blond hair neatly combed and gelled, and the collar of his unbuttoned wool designer trench popped up. But his face is even more haggard than this morning. His skin is dry and pallid, and there are these light-purple circles forming underneath his eyes. His appearance is so distracting I barely notice the indigo-blue shopping bag he’s holding in his left hand.
“Is everything okay?” I have to admit I’m surprised by how much I care after everything that went on today.
“Not really,” he replies. “I—”
Patrick’s voice catches and stops cold, his gaze traveling above me and up the stairs. I turn around to look over my shoulder and spot Josh quietly walking down the steps. My jaw slides open and I gawk at him when he finally joins me at the bottom landing.
What the hell is he doing?
“Hey,” Josh says casually, staring directly at Patrick.
I can see red blotches forming on Patrick’s neck—something that only happens when he’s absolutely furious.
“What’s going on, Ree?” he asks, totally ignoring Josh.
“Oh, um, Josh just drove me home,” I say, my stomach quivering again.
“From where? It’s almost eleven,” Patrick says.
Josh shifts in front of me, his eyes never leaving Patrick. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Patrick looks at the floor, stepping away from both of us.
“Let me handle this, okay?” I say to Josh, nudging him in the side.
But it’s like he doesn’t hear me at all.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.” Josh advances on Patrick like a target, but his voice is low-key and nonthreatening.
“Sorry,” Patrick says, pulling his shoulders back and sticking out his dimpled chin. “I’ve been really busy. Any word from Nora?”
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